62 AN AMERICAN HUNTER 



his right forearm. I shot him through the heart. At the 

 shot he sprang clean into the top of the tree, head and 

 tail up, and his face fairly demoniac with rage; but be- 

 fore he touched the ground he was dead. Turk jumped 

 up, seized him as he fell, and the two rolled over a low 

 ledge, falling about eight feet into the snow, Turk never 

 losing his hold. 



No one could have wished to see a prettier chase un- 

 der better circumstances. It was exceedingly interesting. 

 The only dog hurt was Queen, and very miserable indeed 

 she looked. She stood in the trail, refusing to lie down 

 or to join the other dogs, as, with prodigious snarls at one 

 another, they ate the pieces of the carcass we cut out for 

 them. Dogs hunting every day, as these were doing, and 

 going through such terrific exertion, need enormous 

 quantities of meat, and as old horses and crippled steers 

 were not always easy to get, we usually fed them the cou- 

 gar carcasses. On this occasion, when they had eaten 

 until they could eat no longer, I gave most of my lunch to 

 Queen Boxer, who after his feast could hardly move, 

 nevertheless waddling up with his ears forward to beg 

 a share. Queen evidently felt that the lunch was a deli- 

 cacy, for she ate it, and then trotted home behind us with 

 the rest of the dogs. Rather to my astonishment, next 

 day she was all right, and as eager to go with us as ever. 

 Though one side of her head was much swollen, in her 

 work she showed no signs of her injuries. 



Early the following morning, February I4th, the last 

 day of my actual hunting, we again started for Juniper 

 Mountain, following the same course on which we had 



